why must I compare to you what I don’t see in me. Our beauty is evident even when it goes unseen.

A child’s love is so pure. So malleable you could mould yourself a new in the eyes of their love. Yet you use your fists to pound out their love and your words to break them apart. What purity can survive in the wake of destruction. Love in the form of hate turns into a repetition of abuse. A cycle can never be broken if the person is broken themselves.

I understand the pain of one can be the death of many. Pain is not singular. It is undefinable. You feel it and feel it and feel it. A mountain of suffering can be over in a moment or last a life time in small doses. Fighting is not for the faint of heart. It is an everyday occurrence to fight against the current of life that is trying to bring you down. You swim and you swim and a breathe never truely feels whole when you know you will go back under. Just remember there will always be another breath another break in the waves. A calm ocean is a thing of desire but a controlled ocean is a thing of need.

The world was meant to be my oyster and yet it swallowed me whole before I could even take my first step.

It pinned me down and taught me lessons in the form of pain and shame. It made itself known to me. The version of myself I should of been and it muttered one word; pathetic.

my body is sewn together with harsh words and unkind thoughts. A marriage of hate exists between my bones and skin. It wills itself to be the thing it’s not. Unnatural inhuman. A shell of a person with skin painted on and a smile that never sits right. A thunderous rage hides in plain site in the form of a naïve girl just trying to survive.

I’m so very sad that this body of mine

Is the only one I’ll have in my life time

My blood and guts will only rot once

But I’ll decay everyday until I’m dust

I hear my name being called. It is my name but it is also the name of a girl in my class. I imagine it is the name of many people who have lived many lives. I wonder if a name connects us , a shared experience between strangers. a mother calls the name to a child ,a man shouts the name at his wife ,a tombstone is etched with my name and yet it is not my body that lies beneath it. Can the others feel the weight of my name as I do or is my name filled with a different weight, something light. How can I ever be truely gone from this world when my name is still whispered on lips. There is me and there is a name but it will never be mine it will always be ours.